cans?" Kaitlyn asked.
At which point a uniformed policeman walked into the room. "Someone call 911 to report a robbery?" he asked.
Investigating
Kaitlyn pointed at Amy. She told the policeman, "I'm sorry to say that this girl, a known liar, has stolen valuable property, including this lady's dog and my Ukrainian Easter egg."
"This girl," Dr. Schieber countered before the policeman could say anything, "took good care of my dog after he strayed, and I'm very grateful to her."
Kaitlyn said, "Everybody heard her say it was her dog."
"And he was," Dr. Schieber said, "since she was the one taking care of him for those days."
"That wasn't what she said," Kaitlyn muttered.
Dr. Schieber smiled brightly. "I certainly didn't call 911"—she glanced at the policeman's name tag—"Officer Munshi."
The policeman looked at Kaitlyn. "And what's this about a ... an
egg,
did you say?"
"A Ukrainian Easter egg," Kaitlyn explained. She tried to show him the photo album, but he wasn't interested.
"You called 911 for a missing egg?"
"These eggs can be quite valuable," Mrs. Pudlyk said in defense of her granddaughter and of the tradition of Ukrainian Easter eggs. "Some have sold at the auctions for two or three thousand dollars."
Officer Munshi took out a pad of paper and poised a pen over it. "This egg was worth between two and three thousand dollars?"
"Well"—Mrs. Pudlyk glanced away—"not this particular egg."
Officer Munshi clicked his pen twice: point in, point out. "How much," he asked, sounding just the slightest bit impatient, "do you estimate this particular egg was worth?"
Mom said, "At eighty-nine cents a dozen on special this week at Wegmans, that would be approximately seven and a half cents."
Officer Munshi clicked his pen several times as people in the crowd snickered. Except, of course, for the Walker-Pudlyks.
"Not counting, of course," Mom admitted, "the time and expense of hard-boiling it."
"It was worth more than that!" Kaitlyn stamped her foot.
Officer Munshi put his pad away.
"I worked all morning on it," Kaitlyn cried, getting loud once again, "and Amy stole it because she was jealous. Look!" She grabbed up Amy's egg from its box. "See how ugly hers is? See why she was jealous?"
"Kaitlyn," Sister Mary Grace started, "be—" But before she could say "careful," the egg dropped from Kaitlyn's hand.
Amy saw it falling, falling, falling, and was unable to move. Then it smashed on the floor.
Sherlock barked sharply.
"Oh!" Kaitlyn said. Even Amy couldn't be 100 percent sure she had done it on purpose. In the total stillness of the crowded room, Kaitlyn said, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to drop it. I was just trying to show why she was so jealous."
Sean stooped to pick up the egg—which was good, because Amy still couldn't move at all. One side of the egg was crushed, mostly where the flowers were; but crack lines webbed out over most of the lopsided picture of Sherlock. Sean gently set the egg back down in the Easter grass. A piece of shell stuck to his finger.
"I didn't mean it," Kaitlyn repeated sulkily.
Sherlock barked again.
Officer Munshi looked from Kaitlyn to Amy to Sister Mary Grace. "Who called 911?" Amy could tell he was getting angry. He was still glaring at Sister Mary Grace despite the fact that she was shaking her head. "Don't you realize that while I'm here listening to these children bicker, something serious could be happening somewhere else in the city? First you tie up 911's phone line, then you take me off the streets to listen to this squabbling because you don't have control of your class—"
"I beg your pardon!" Sister Mary Grace objected. "Kaitlyn Walker took it upon herself to call you. I had nothing to do with it, and neither did any of the other adults."
"No control," Officer Munshi repeated.
Sherlock stood right in front of him and once more barked.
"And as for this dog," Officer Munshi said, "don't you know there's a public health ordinance against dogs inside school
At which point a uniformed policeman walked into the room. "Someone call 911 to report a robbery?" he asked.
Investigating
Kaitlyn pointed at Amy. She told the policeman, "I'm sorry to say that this girl, a known liar, has stolen valuable property, including this lady's dog and my Ukrainian Easter egg."
"This girl," Dr. Schieber countered before the policeman could say anything, "took good care of my dog after he strayed, and I'm very grateful to her."
Kaitlyn said, "Everybody heard her say it was her dog."
"And he was," Dr. Schieber said, "since she was the one taking care of him for those days."
"That wasn't what she said," Kaitlyn muttered.
Dr. Schieber smiled brightly. "I certainly didn't call 911"—she glanced at the policeman's name tag—"Officer Munshi."
The policeman looked at Kaitlyn. "And what's this about a ... an
egg,
did you say?"
"A Ukrainian Easter egg," Kaitlyn explained. She tried to show him the photo album, but he wasn't interested.
"You called 911 for a missing egg?"
"These eggs can be quite valuable," Mrs. Pudlyk said in defense of her granddaughter and of the tradition of Ukrainian Easter eggs. "Some have sold at the auctions for two or three thousand dollars."
Officer Munshi took out a pad of paper and poised a pen over it. "This egg was worth between two and three thousand dollars?"
"Well"—Mrs. Pudlyk glanced away—"not this particular egg."
Officer Munshi clicked his pen twice: point in, point out. "How much," he asked, sounding just the slightest bit impatient, "do you estimate this particular egg was worth?"
Mom said, "At eighty-nine cents a dozen on special this week at Wegmans, that would be approximately seven and a half cents."
Officer Munshi clicked his pen several times as people in the crowd snickered. Except, of course, for the Walker-Pudlyks.
"Not counting, of course," Mom admitted, "the time and expense of hard-boiling it."
"It was worth more than that!" Kaitlyn stamped her foot.
Officer Munshi put his pad away.
"I worked all morning on it," Kaitlyn cried, getting loud once again, "and Amy stole it because she was jealous. Look!" She grabbed up Amy's egg from its box. "See how ugly hers is? See why she was jealous?"
"Kaitlyn," Sister Mary Grace started, "be—" But before she could say "careful," the egg dropped from Kaitlyn's hand.
Amy saw it falling, falling, falling, and was unable to move. Then it smashed on the floor.
Sherlock barked sharply.
"Oh!" Kaitlyn said. Even Amy couldn't be 100 percent sure she had done it on purpose. In the total stillness of the crowded room, Kaitlyn said, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to drop it. I was just trying to show why she was so jealous."
Sean stooped to pick up the egg—which was good, because Amy still couldn't move at all. One side of the egg was crushed, mostly where the flowers were; but crack lines webbed out over most of the lopsided picture of Sherlock. Sean gently set the egg back down in the Easter grass. A piece of shell stuck to his finger.
"I didn't mean it," Kaitlyn repeated sulkily.
Sherlock barked again.
Officer Munshi looked from Kaitlyn to Amy to Sister Mary Grace. "Who called 911?" Amy could tell he was getting angry. He was still glaring at Sister Mary Grace despite the fact that she was shaking her head. "Don't you realize that while I'm here listening to these children bicker, something serious could be happening somewhere else in the city? First you tie up 911's phone line, then you take me off the streets to listen to this squabbling because you don't have control of your class—"
"I beg your pardon!" Sister Mary Grace objected. "Kaitlyn Walker took it upon herself to call you. I had nothing to do with it, and neither did any of the other adults."
"No control," Officer Munshi repeated.
Sherlock stood right in front of him and once more barked.
"And as for this dog," Officer Munshi said, "don't you know there's a public health ordinance against dogs inside school
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